Erik's Requiem
by peachi padwan
Summary: Our favourite knight has returned from his long absence! Once again, he is simply gushing with tons of connotations, musings and complaints about his housemates and his living quarters. Will the suffering ever end for our dear brave Erik? Rating change
1. Hot Spoons & The Charlatan

**_(Erik has returned! He did in fact decline an offer to play the Phantom in 'Phantom of the Opera' so he could be here instead. But I'm sure this is far more exciting! Please spare a moment for a review. Enjoy!)_**

Erik's Requiem

Hot Spoons & The Charlatan

"I swear…he's been watching that blasted programme for hours now. He can't get any closer to that wretched television without being sat upon it!

I can't take it any more. I want to have my none existent eyes gorged out with hot spoons. I want to self implode and splatter the gallery with molten steel. I want to have my gorget twisted and burned in front of me. I want to be torn limb from metallic limb…anything to numb the pain of this ongoing torture!

He has sat for the past four and a half hours, in that same spot on the couch. He hasn't gotten up, gone to the toilet, he hasn't taken food or even drink. The only movement he has made is his right thumb clicking the bloody rewind button on the remote. Oh, and his ridiculous wigged head wiggles when he lets slip the odd nod of approval.

Over and over and over again. Rewind…watch…rewind…watch…rewind…watch. GOD WHEN WILL IT END!

I enjoy television as much as anyone, I really do. But this takes it to new and disconcerting levels. We are now in unchartered areas of unhealthy obsession. His fixation with that sodding programme is truly worrying; he is utterly fascinated by it. I don't even think if I got up and did an Irish jig in front of him he'd pay a blind bit of notice!

I mean, I'm not sure what one would classify it as. Complete vanity or sheer weirdness!

The way he is just sat there…I think he might develop a thrombosis or something. He has simply sat there…staring at that god forsaken television screen. I'm praying for a power cut…_please Lord let it be so!_

I really do not know what to do. This is truly worse than anything I have ever endured and I've been through a lot let me tell you. I've slayed the terrifying Slovakian Sharptail dragon with one hand. I've gone to battle against the most revered Count Ulrich Von Vildermiere of the darkest Byderland. I've even scaled two hundred foot walls surrounded by the deepest motes to rescue pretty damsels in distress. But never ever have I experienced anything as near as frightening and disturbing as this.

Why oh why does he insist upon making me face the damned television room. I'd rather stare at the wall for twenty-four hours!

Much more of this and I shall truly go insane…

In fact my brain is beginning to itch...damn my inability to move…

Wait…I don't have a brain…do I?

Oh sweet God the madness is creeping in…

Whoever introduced this charlatan to the idea of 'V-tv' seriously wants hurting."


	2. The Perils Of Vanity

_**(I'd like to thank all of you who have reviewed chapter one, it means the world to me! And if you're wondering where this connotation came from…I can unfortunately relate to it!)**_

Erik's Requiem

The Perils Of Vanity

"There are many questions in life one can ask. Some questions have simple and easy to understand answers. Some questions have difficult and complicated answers. Some questions are answered with riddle and rhyme, others with a quick witted limerick and a flick of the tongue. Some questions are answered by reading a book or browsing the various television channels.

Of course, there are grand questions that have echoed throughout the ages, ones that Egyptians, Romans, Edwardians and knights alike have all asked. Quintessential questions that remain stead fast whatever the era; that will never have a true definitive explanation; ones such as…

_What is the meaning of life?_

_Why are we here?_

_Does God really exist?_

_How do you stop metal rusting?_

Then there are questions that are not so grand, ones that plague individuals on a daily basis, one that are usually answered swiftly and without too much thought. They hit at most people who answer them as they see fit. They vary depending upon the individual and their situation. Questions like;

_What do I have for tea?_

_When do I get paid?_

_What shall I wear today?_

_How do I cook fois gras? _

Now, what you must understand is that questions only present a real problem for those of a fleshy disposition, or if you prefer by the colloquial term 'humans.' Because of their large brains and thirst for knowledge, questions arise for them every single day; some knowingly, some unbeknowingly. Questions are what keep humans going; it's what drives evolution and keeps them at the pinnacle of life I suppose!

But you see, we suits of armour are not troubled by questions, especially in my old age. Once, long long ago in the folly of youth, I sought answers just as you do now; but then I learnt that as a metal figure you need no real information or education, just tricks of the trade you pick up along the way. So I stopped asking questions and became content with my lot in life. Questions were replaced with something else however. Being suits of armour, do not ask questions, we merely make decisions;

_Sleep or no sleep?_

_Creak or no creak?_

_Arm fall of or arm stay on?_

I was content with this arrangement. I shall leave the questions to the humans and the decisions to myself. A nice status quo where all is good and as it should be.

But then I came to live with the dandy and everything changed. For the first time in my entire life…a question arose in my mind.

Naturally I was confused and actually a little scared at first. I knew not how to answer such a question; I wouldn't know where to begin for heavens sake. It remained peacefully at the back of my mind for the longest while, but the question was to attack with a vengeance. As the days progressed it gnawed at me. As the question began to grow inside me, I shed my fear for curiosity. My question sought an answer, sought an ended to my pondering. The question eventually manifested itself from simple inquisitiveness, to a full blown splinter of desperation in my head. Like an itch, it needed to be scratched. I was going crazy seeking an answer, any form of explanation for the question…

_**HOW DOES THAT FOP GET HIS HAIR SO GOD DAMN STRAIGHT?**_

I mean…it's perfect, I've never seen hair like it! There's not a strand out of place, not a fly away hair in sight. It moves beautifully, shines like polished metal and it just looks immaculate. No matter what task he undertakes, no matter how strenuous the operation or how awkward the happening, it is always perfect. How he gets it like that is beyond me.

The question remained a mystery for the longest time; I almost gave it up as a question without an answer. Months passed by and no sign of an explanation. All the while I was taunted with that perfectly straight wig and silky smooth shine wandering about every single day. It tormented me, drove me insane with questioning. I thought I would go to the great scrap yard in the sky never knowing the true answer.

Until one day, after I had all but given up hope, the answer came to me. Like a bolt of lightening from the heavens. Like a glimmer of light in a black room. Like a rope in a never ending abyss the answer arrived. If it were possible I would have cried with joy at finally have an explanation to my quandary. It came in the most unexpected form; but one that not only answered the question I posed, one that made me chuckle also!

----------

Approximately three days ago I heard a loud shriek being emitted from the cad's room. A high pitched cry akin to that of a young child or a girl. It rang out throughout the gallery and reverberated from the walls. A scream that was extravagant in pitch and lengthy in duration. The wail was then followed by many profanities and a slight hue of blue tingeing the surrounding air. Suddenly, the charlatan leapt from his room in his fluffy dressing gown, yelling and creating like a madman! He was shouting and screeching to bring the gallery down. He was clutching at his right ear furiously; I being overly keen deduced that he had indeed procured an injury of some sort.

(Never would I have guessed that after such a mini drama, would come the scratch to my itch!)

Then I saw them, the shining beautiful answer to my question. Glimmering like a shard of hope in an otherwise black quagmire of unknowing. The beacon of explanation after so long. The perfectly formed answer in the shape of stunning technology. I'm glad humans ask questions, as I'm sure without them the answer to my question would not exist. My itch was well and truly scratched.

In his free hand, the fop was clutching none other than a bottle of straightening spray and a pair of straighteners. (They were a good pair too, GHD's none the less! No wonder his hair always looks amazing!) And the hollering and screeching was of course a result of an injury sustained in the pursuit of his vanity. For all that straight hair, the cad had finally paid a price…

He had undoubtedly done what countless women must do on a daily basis……

The dandy had caught his earlobe in the 125 degree hot straighteners."


	3. Worse Than Staring Into The Mouth Of Hel

_**(Yes, don't worry I have upped the rating for this one!)**_

Erik's Requiem

Worse Than Staring Into The Mouth Of Hell

"Well I never. In all my years of loyal servitude to that dandy, I have never witnessed anything like I have just witnessed now.

I am obedient; I'm devoted and trustworthy. I do my job; I serve my purpose without cause or effect. I am a good sparring partner, I allow him to beat me and I don't complain (much). I stand quietly, I don't make a sound (save the odd creak now and again.) I keep a constant watchful eye over the gallery and make sure there's no mischief or mayhem. I also bring a certain amount of class and heritage to his home, something not all suits of armour can do I might add!

All in all, I think I carry out my role very well; all I ask in return is a certain amount of care, attention and general respect. Yes he may be polishing me a little more often, and sure the unprovoked attacks aren't _quite_ so frequent, but I really do think the respect thing needs some serious addressing. I doubt he realises its actually give and take, not just take.

I mean, I am old now. I've been around for centuries now. I've done the crazy teenage thing where you're out till all hours quaffing ale with the boys and chasing the pretty dairymaids. (I tell you, 1386…that year was a riot…I'm sure that pig never walked again. I must tell you the tale some day.)

Anyway, where was I….oh yes as I was saying.

Dear old Erik is a delicate soul and I need stability in my life now, not nasty surprises and shocks! I shouldn't be privy to some of the things I see around here! I wouldn't say I'm a sensitive fellow, I'm hardier than most people give me credit for. I've seen all sorts in my time, but some things you just do not ever want to see.

For example, what I have just seen now should never have been viewed by my eyes, I feel like they're burning in their non-existent sockets. Why didn't the cad just scar me for life? In fact I think he may have…the image just won't leave my head…it's disgusting! Some things in life are fine viewing like a Picasso or a Rembrandt. However other things are not good for viewing; they should be kept secret or locked away or something. A revolting, abhorrent mental image; one that will undoubtedly stay with me for the rest of my now miserable days. In fact dear readers, I am so ashamed of what I have viewed I feel it is my duty to share with you what my poor eyes saw. Nay I cannot paint you a picture (god…you wouldn't want me to) but I can describe it, and I shall not scrimp on the detail. At least that way you can make up your own mind as to whether or not it was fit for general viewing.

About half an hour ago, Evey emerged from her room after being in there for bloody hours. I must say, even by my standards, she was dressed rather skimpily; wearing only a tiny little vest top and some almost non-existent little shorts. (She looked very fetching, but I feel it was a tad inappropriate as you see the heating has packed in down here so it's mightily cold! I've tried to get the charlatan to fix it but he's crap with anything too technical!) Anyway, she came waltzing in like lady la da and swept right past the dandy with a flick of her curls. He caught a glance of her and his attentions soon shifted from the dusty old tome he was so intently reading.

She graced the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea. She prowled around like a cat, moving slowly and suggestively as she went. It was highly over exaggerated; much bum wiggling and bending over seductively; and yes although the dandy tried desperately to read his book, he slyly kept his attentions upon her and her assets! When she had finished making her tea, she swept back into the living room where he was sat and she placed herself right next to him, extending her long legs into his lap! The cheek of it! The fop had no idea what to do and even I could feel the heat radiating from him! The little minx said not a word, she simply kept licking her lips and sipping her tea most suggestively; all the while the cad trying in vain to concentrate on his book.

This little perverse game continued for some minutes and I kept a watchful eye upon its developments. There was more licking of lips from the minx, some stretching, a few moans and groans and some hair flicking thrown in there too. I must say the dandy controlled himself very well, even if he did afford himself the odd sly glance. It mustn't be easy having a young nymph gyrating in your lap like that! I did wonder what she was up to…probably reading that damn Cosmopolitan again…(corrupter of young ladies in my view!)

It looked like this naughty little game was seemingly having little effect upon the rake, so little Miss Hammond took herself and her suggestiveness back into her bedroom. She upped and left the couch with a wiggle of her bottom and the most seductive walk back to her room. Once the door was firmly closed behind her, the cad let out a huge sigh. At first I thought it was one of relief but then it morphed into more a sigh of frustration! And as we all know very well, when the cad is frustrated, there is only one person that can rid him of it…me.

He leapt from the couch in a fury, grabbed his foil and guffawed loudly. I closed my eyes for a moment, preparing to receive the thrashing of a lifetime. I expected to have heavy, angry blows reign down upon my head and to be attacked furiously about my body. I thought I would truly feel his wrath and the true measure of his pent up frustration!

And then it happened.

That is the moment I lost my faith…that exact moment.

And since that moment I have and will continue to pray for deliverance, or some form of divine intervention to rid me of this plague.

I have seen things others have not and probably never will see. I have stared into the mouth of hell and laughed. I have gazed into the eyes of evil and stood my ground. I have seen the world fall about me and I have never flinched. But what I saw in that instant was truly more horrific than anything else I have ever seen. Acid in my face would have been a hundred times more pleasant than what I have just viewed.

Yes dear readers, I saw it…I shudder to even bring myself to explain it to you. You're too decent to hear such a thing.

As the cad spun around to face me, through the mask I sensed his demonic frustration, but something was awry. When vicious blows did not strike me as they normally do, I peeled open one eye gently to see what was the matter. And there it was; like a sore thumb, like a flashing beacon, like everything else in that room did not exist and there was only that. I retched as my eyes fell upon it…

I gagged as my eyes fell upon the full effect that the vixen in her skimpy outfit had had on him.

(I can bearly get the words out to tell you, I feel sick.)

There it was, plain as day, brash as you please…no shame or abash…

Oh dear god…I can hardly say it…

Yes…it was there…I saw that bulge in his pants."


	4. The Informal Ball

_**(Reviews more than welcome!)**_

Erik's Requiem

The Informal Ball

"I have few pleasures in my life. Yes, of course I have some…but not many. The things I enjoy are simple and not overly complicated or demanding.

The things I truly enjoy are token gestures and are effortless. A mere glance from Miss Hammond, a quick spit and polish from our trigger-happy cad or even someone playing a bit of Beethoven on the jukebox. I would not consider such things to be asking a lot; such events keep me happy from day to day, and allow me to afford a smile now and again. They keep me happy and generally of a cheerful disposition.

Yes yes…of course there are things that brighten my day that I suppose I would class as a bit out of the ordinary. I mean, I will never EVER tire of seeing that dandy injure himself in some ridiculous way; that is guaranteed to make me beam from ear to ear. I'm certain of a laugh when he tries to cook, and I know my sides are going to ache when he attempts some new fandangled fight move on me. These things are very funny and certainly do bring me pleasure.

But there are some things in life, which when they occur, brighten up my entire week, my entire month, nay my whole existence. Things that I suppose I can only dream of, or pray that god may answer my prayers and grace me with such an event. They are an extreme rarity and usually unexpected, making them even more delectable.

But as we all know, when one thing happens in your life that is good, you are almost guaranteed for that good thing to be balanced out with something not so pleasant. Like finding a pound down the back of the sofa, then stubbing your toe upon the side of said couch. Like buying a new expensive, fancy looking shirt, only for you to rip it when you first wear it. The good/bad balance has to be restored at some point; either sooner or later, it has to be restored.

However, as it happens, an event of epic proportions happened to me just the other day!

It brought me so much happiness and joy. I was filled from the tip of my boot to the top of my helmet with bliss and delight. I could barely contain myself; I thought my head might pop off! I felt as if all my birthdays, Christmases' and tooth fairy visits had come at once…I was so very elated. No it wasn't anything complicated like a new pair of gloves, or new vambraces; not even a new breast plate. It was something so simple, yet so exquisite.

Evey asked me to dance.

_Me…me…dear old Erik? Dusty, rusty, cumbersome Erik! _

Something so simple, yet with all the power to make me so very happy.

Naturally I was quite concerned at first as sadly I do not dance, I've never danced in my life, only observed the occasional ball. I have as about as much co-ordination as a brick going through a window. I don't know a rumba from a foxtrot, a cha cha cha from a quickstep…I'm truly hopeless. Would I be a good partner? Would I step on her little toes? Could I learn to dance? But never the less I was not deterred by such thoughts; I was willing to give it a go. I wasn't about to let an opportunity like this pass me by!

(Now just to clarify, I know you're wondering now the devil would she be able to dance with me? I'm so heavy and difficult to move. Well you see, when I came to the gallery, the dandy attached little rollers to both of my feet so he can wheel me around easily. It's great for him, especially when he wants to attack me swiftly…however, not so good for me! Anyway, on with the tale.)

Yes, Evey approached me rather casually and nervously might I add. I think she has been inspired by the jukebox playing. (I was rather hoping she wasn't going to make me dance to that infernal Fifty Cent she had been listening too; ridiculous body popping and the like…I think I'd hurt myself if I tried that!) Luckily for me she opted for something far more suitable, a nice gentle classical piece for us to sway away to.

She was very good, had an excellent command of the music and me! She took me by the hand and led me into the gallery. She placed my hand upon her tiny waist and kept a firm grip on the other. Holding me lightly by the arm, she began to move in time with the music. It was heaven. It felt like I was gliding upon a gossamer cloud with an angel, I never wanted it to end. Her touch was so light, her smile filled the room and her steps were as effortless as breathing. This was truly one of those moment that made my entire year, no in fact I would venture as far to say my entire life! It was fabulous. We were floating in the air, dancing in the sky, we were elated. If I had a heart I know it would have missed a few beats!

I was doing very well. I hadn't tripped or fallen, and neither had I stepped upon her toes! I was immensely proud of myself! But with such an amazing teacher I was bound to succeed! We pirouetted, we twirled, we swayed and I even did a successful dip without dropping her! She lit up my life in that moment, and I was enjoying myself so much. It isn't that often I truly relish something, but dancing with Evey was fantastic. The moment was perfect and I knew I would treasure it forever.

But dear readers, do you recall me saying that the good/bad balance is always restored at some point? Well unfortunately for your dear old Erik, the balance came far too soon.

Lured by the sound of the music and the melodic giggles of little Evey, that blasted cad came venturing from his hovel of a room to investigate. He stepped onto the dance floor, chest puffed out like a strutting peacock, shoulders back and stood to attention. I could see what he wanted; I could sense what he was angling for the cheeky swine! (If I could speak I'd have told him where to go…) Tilting that stupid head to one side, he did something that I thought he would never do. Something I thought he would not have to cheek and audacity to try. I thought him to be a gentleman…I was sorely mistook.

He approached Evey with an outstretched hand…and asked her to dance! _To dance with him instead of me!_ The very nerve! The impudent creature! I was outraged that the charlatan who can dance with her any time, was completely ruining my moment with this little seraph! He was cutting in without so much as a please or a thank you! And then…to add insult to injury, he had the boldness to bad mouth me whilst I was still in front of him. Telling Evey to come and dance with a _real man_! The audacity of that man…he truly has no shame! Why if I could move of my own accord, my boot would have made him dance I tell you!

So sadly my readers, that is where my fantasy moment ended. He snatched my darling Evey from me and held her in his own evil clutches. From dancing with an angel, I was relegated back to my usual place by the lowly wall. I was forced to watch my usurper dance with the woman I adored, my none existent heart was breaking. I watched with sad eyes as he spun her around and she giggled. Forced to stare as he snaked his hand around her hips when he dipped her too low. Yes, it was a low point of my day and I could have shed a few tears. The only good thing that had happened to me in as long as I can remember, cruelly ripped from me by a cad in a mask.

But again, there is justice. As I told you, the good/bad balance always has to be restored, my bad event was about to be rebalanced!

The fop had been rather careless when shoving me to one side, and hadn't taken much care to see that I was properly out of the way.

How unfortunate then, that he was spinning towards me…

And my foot was outstretched in his way…

Isn't it a crying shame I can't move of my own accord?"


	5. Halloween In The Gallery

"**My dearest readers…it is I your noble Erik. I've noticed an absence in a lot of you recently and do so pray that all is well and that you have not fallen foul to mischief or mayhem! I myself have been some what jaded of late, but I assure you I am back on my feet and raring to go! So if you are about, let me know what you think of the dastardly doings of the cad this time! "**

**_(Thanks for that Erik… now on with the musings! Short I know….but hey!)_**

Erik's Requiem

Halloween In The Shadow Gallery

"Halloween. One of my most favourite holidays. Well not so much a holiday per say, but an event that one looks forward to. I remember the first ever Halloween all those centuries ago when I was nowt but a young lump of eager metal. It wasn't as celebrated back then, not as much fun now mind, but fun none the less! (Although I did feel rather sorry for that witch they burnt at the stake……)

Anyway, I do so love all the trimmings and trappings that October 31st seems to encompass. The ghouls and goblins, witches and werewolves, vampires and voldemorts! The night where the dead walk the earth, when spirits and banshees play havoc in the world of the fleshy! I adore the scares and frights, the tricks and the treats! I find the creepy tales and stories most amusing; I like a chilling anecdote as much as the any bloke!

It's especially fun now that Evey is with us. The Shadow Gallery has been decorated! There's fake cobwebs hanging from every painting and statue, big plastic spiders at every corner and brooms and flying mini-witches all over the place! That daft pair keep popping out from the dark on one another, trying to frighten the other….silly sods! I just think it's so very unfortunate that we won't get any trick or treaters here, being underground and all. So I suppose Evey will have to have all the delightful spooky sweets herself!

Yes…I do so love Halloween. The pair have even dressed up you know!

Evey is a little black cat. Little whiskers, a painted pink nose, fluffy tail and a white tummy to boot. She looks very fetching, prancing and prowling around the gallery…very impressive

And the cad…well the cad is dressed up as a vampire. V for Vampire…I suppose that works. Dressed all fancy in his cloak and his dark clothing and his black boot. Come to think of it, he looks not much different to how he looks normally! The only thing that's any different is he's splattered a bit of fake blood onto his mouth! He's sticking to the shadows trying to look menacing, but then again he does that normally too!

And guess what? Even I have a costume to wear! Yes dear old Erik gets to join in the fun and celebrations.

I mean, my outfit isn't as fetching as the others. It's not even that inventive. To be honest, I feel a little let down, disappointed as it were. I could have been anything if they'd have only put some thought into it…

A pirate perhaps?

A warlock maybe?

Even a headless horseman!

But no. lets be dull and uncreative with Erik. Let's give him the crappy costume to wear, he won't mind.

Well I do mind!

I mean on…really? How unimaginative is it to simply throw a white sheet over me and pretend I'm a blasted ghost?"


	6. Ruined Masculinity

**_AN: I'm sorry I've not updated this fic for a while but reviews seem to be few and far between on here nowadays so the inspiration and drive to write has seriously dwindled. But I have rekindled my love for Erik as it is now part of a C2 community (thanks for adding me!) and the good knight himself has told me more of his trials and tribulations whilst living with V and Evey._**

**_(I will not say please review and appeal to you guys as it seems to be doing bugger all and people don't bother anyway. I mean over 800 hits and 33 reviews?? Oh sod it……here's Erik.)_**

Erik's Requiem

Ruined Masculinity

"Having lived in the presence of little Miss Hammond for quite some time now, I have become rather accustomed to her ways, her comings and goings so to speak. She has her little rituals, whims and routines, some of which I can understand and see the need for and some which I cannot fathom out for love nor money.

For example, I fully understand the necessity in painting ones toenails, especially in the female world. Painted toenails are pretty and pleasing to the eye and they raise self esteem. Pink is particularly delightful colour, as is red and even some shades of orange. But apart from just looking nice, it has a practical purpose I suppose. I mean…if your nails are of a bright colour, then you can see them better, ergo preventing oneself from stubbing said toes on large heavy and usually inanimate objects.

I do not however, see the need for taking so many various costly vitamins and minerals! Surely if you eat the correct food types and drink as you should then you are consuming the necessary amounts of vitals the squishy human body needs? She shovels them down her neck like there's no tomorrow! They are so damned expensive too, I certainly would not be paying the amount that little Evey does! But anyway, the woman has her demands and needs to I suppose it is okay for her to have this small mercy that I cannot understand.

I have also come to understand some other things whilst living with Evey, things that I did not see the point in before and simply did not understand. Again for example, I never understood why different coloured and different types of clothing required different types of washing powder and varying types of attention…why not just use the same one for all your bloody clothes therefore saving time and money? However, I now see the sense in using a whole plethora of cloth cleaning products and washing mantras as different colours and different fabrics need different care. I mean…you wouldn't wash silk or cashmere in a machine on a sixty wash; that would be a total tragedy. And you certainly wouldn't use non-biodegradable washing powder on something so delicate like Venetian lace…oh dear that would be bad.

So you see, the little devil has taught me many things. So many things in fact, I cannot recall them all! Some of these pearls of wisdom are useful, others not so useful. I mean I will never have any need for knowing that if you use rubber gloves whilst self-tanning, you save yourself the embarrassment of brown hands later on. Very useful…just not for me. However, I was pleased to be informed that if you polish metal in circular motions rather than in straight lines, it makes the job easier and you get a more brilliant shine. Now that is useful to me!

She has provided me with an excellent insight into the weird working of the female mind and psyche. It is a place one rarely wants to venture into alone, but when invited and under close supervision, it's actually a great place to be. If only that cad was privy to what I am, he'd have more of an idea I suppose. I mean, the fool still thinks that blunt fringes are 'trendy'….oh dear…the fop is so last season. And that colour…well the less said about that the better.

She also frequently involves me in many of her daily tasks, which makes my day go so much quicker. She constantly chats to me whilst she dusts the many books, statues and antiquities of the gallery. She always dances with me after a glass of red wine or four…I find that most enjoyable, although I think I do a better job of staying upright that she does! And she is continuously dressing me in the fop's fancy hats and tweed scarves (yes he does own them he just chooses that blasted black all the time.) I enjoy the dressing up as she wears the floaty feminine outfits and the sparkly rocks she has found, and I get to wear the masculine clothes and on occasion a smoking pipe and jacket! We have fantastic adventures like high tea and scones with the queen, colourful kite flying on the common and regal black tie balls with the nobility. Yes, when that charlatan isn't around we get up to all sorts of fun and devilment you wouldn't believe!

So yes, I am quite happy to be involved to most things, I find a good portion of events and bits of wisdom to be educational at best and entertaining in the least.

However, some things I feel I know far too much about and certainly do NOT want to be involved with.

I shall explain.

-------------------------------------------------

Just the other day Evey was setting about gathering all the things she needed to have a girly night in. The dandy was out doing god only knows what, so the small woman decided to pamper herself. Nothing wrong with that I hear you say and I totally agree, every woman needs some self pampering…it is most vital!

So she grabbed herself some fluffy fresh towels and disappeared into the bathroom for phase one of her pampering…the shower. Now I know that this ritual takes the longest time and seems to be the most vital stage of the evening, it is the foundation of the pampering so to speak. It relaxes the body and muscles, opens the pores, prepares for other types of self beautification and is overall great fun. The regular showering time of around ten minutes is extended to over forty-five minutes of toe-curling heat, steam and product application. In the bathroom at this time, the little minx will shave, buff, scrape, exfoliate, cleanse and unclog almost every inch of her body. This will also involve an application of a very pricey sweet smelling hair mask, adding to the time.

Once she has emerged from the bathroom in a flurry of steam and white towelling, she can happily move onto phase two of the pampering…maintenance. Now this stage of the evening can involve a whole number of events, but on this occasion Evey decided to go for the full scale pampering. (I knew it was a serious session as she immediately put on the television the ultimate chick flick and pampering accompaniment…'Bridget Jones Diary'.) After cracking open a bottle of red wine and gulping a few mouthfuls, she sat cross legged in the television room with her basket full of goodies. The routine for the evening involved an invigorating Tibetan peel off face mask, a leave-in Chinese hair treatment, a full French manicure, a total foot overhaul with a luxury Swiss pedicure, full body moisturisation using Canadian almonds and shea butter, a home eyelash tint, and to top it off a teeth whitening programme. Oh yes dear readers…this was a big one.

I quite enjoy observing her going about this bizarre ritual. I find it highly amusing and great fun to watch. But let me stress…that is as far as my permitted involvement goes. But it would seem that little Miss Hammond had other plans…

I shall never forget that look in her eyes as she threw that glance over her shoulder and glared at me with those evil glinting eyes and that menacing grin.

Oh dear lord…

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By the end of the evening, the one bottle of wine had become three and 'Bridget Jones Diary' had long since been replaced with 'The Sweetest Thing'. Her pampering was at an end and she was a renewed woman. Sparkling, gleaming and perfect. And she was not the only one…

Never has my masculinity been thrown into so much disrepute has it had been that fateful evening.

I too had been involved in the pampering…all of it….and I mean**_ all of it_**

The face mask…_oh no._

The eyelash tint…_I shudder at the thought._

The French manicure…_oh yes she found a way._

And…...do I even bring myself to say this? For you sake dear readers I shall…

The…the…OH GOD THE LUXURY SWISS PEDICURE!

My broken and shattered masculinity….will it ever be restored?"


End file.
